


Get Off Your Throne

by ThrillingDetectiveTales



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales
Summary: Vasquez fought the way Josh might have with more than a pitiful six months of intensive training under his belt. After all, at the end of the day he was still just a mechanic with a knack for building robots who’d gotten lucky on the sim, no matter how many hours he was sinking into making up for his shortcomings.Both of them had been waitlisted for the Ranger track until the Mark 6 Jaegers were completed - until, a small, bitter voice added in the back of Josh’s head, he found someone who was Drift compatible with his chewed-up mind - and though Vasquez specialized in trauma and medicine, he at least had actual military training to fall back on. Much as it pained him to acknowledge it, Josh could probably learn a thing or two if he could manage to focus long enough to process anything beyond the prickling edge of irritation that Vasquez seemed so uniquely skilled at drawing out of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greatdisorder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatdisorder/gifts).



> Listen, sometimes your very dear friend **greatdisorder** makes a totally mild request to see Faraday and Vasquez wrestle and make out and that tiny little idea grows legs and wanders off into an aggressively porny Pacific Rim AU. 
> 
> I didn't edit this like, at all. Because, I don't know, reasons or something. Also my kink is gratuitous discussion of safe sex, so, consider yourselves warned.
> 
> Title is from the Kids of 88 song 'Just A Little Bit.'
> 
> Enjoy, darlings! <33

It was a small blessing, Josh thought as he hit the mat hard for the third time, that the kwoon was empty so late at night. Vasquez grinned down at him, smug and sharp, jō staff angled at the center of Josh’s chest.

“Two to two,” he said, canting his head, dark eyes glittering. “You need to cover your legs, guero.”

Josh scowled, swinging his own staff and smacking Vasquez’s out of the way. He used the split second of distraction while Vasquez danced back out of the path of his arcing weapon to push himself to his feet.

He couldn't even deny it. Vasquez was right - he wouldn't have hit the floor three times in twenty minutes if he had been blocking the way he was supposed to. Instead, he’d been a second too late to recover every time Vasquez ducked in for one of his low sweeps, distracted by the teasing curl of Vasquez’s smirk, tilting into a genuine grin anytime Josh landed a hit on him.

“Noted,” Josh snapped, clipped and irritable. He flicked his staff out in a quick, searching one-two strike that Vasquez sidestepped easily.

He admitted, grudgingly, that he might potentially be able to see why Billy had recommended he and Vasquez train together. Vasquez was swift and vicious, utilizing a more aggressive style that complemented Josh’s own relatively ham-handed preference for heavy attack significantly better than Billy’s sly, in-and-out application of defense as offense.

Vasquez fought the way Josh might have with more than a pitiful six months of intensive training under his belt. After all, at the end of the day he was still just a mechanic with a knack for building robots who’d gotten lucky on the sim, no matter how many hours he was sinking into making up for his shortcomings.

Both of them had been waitlisted for the Ranger track until the Mark 6 Jaegers were completed - until, a small, bitter voice added in the back of Josh’s head, he found someone who was Drift compatible with his chewed-up mind - and though Vasquez specialized in trauma and medicine, he at least had actual military training to fall back on. Much as it pained him to acknowledge it, Josh could probably learn a thing or two if he could manage to focus long enough to process anything beyond the prickling edge of irritation that Vasquez seemed so uniquely skilled at drawing out of him.

Josh swung out again, sharp and sudden, and very nearly clipped Vasquez in the shoulder. Vasquez laughed, jackknifing back and out of the way of the strike with a wicked smirk as he adjusted his weapon in hand.

“Not quite, guero.”

“Yeah, well,” Josh snarled, “third time’s the charm.”

He rushed forward, feigning low and coming in high, nearly catching Vasquez at the elbow though the other man managed to twist out of the way just in time. He parried the strike and jabbed in at Josh’s side. Josh blocked it with the lower end of his staff, swinging forward with the top end into the split second vulnerability that Vasquez’s attack had opened up.

“Three to two,” he growled, triumphant, staff frozen a bare few inches from Vasquez’s forehead.

Vasquez, the bastard, just went right on grinning at him, chest heaving a little, sweat-slick curls tufting out over his ears, looking positively delighted at the fact that Josh had gotten the drop on him. It made Josh’s temper twist, mean and hot, in his belly.

“Not as useless as you thought I was, huh?” he spat darkly.

Vasquez’s grin widened. That furious coil behind Josh’s sternum flared hotter still, frustration buzzing in his ears.

“Never said you were useless, guero,” Vasquez replied easily. “Just that you prefer to fight dirty.”

Vasquez was fast, was the thing.

Josh hadn't expected it out of a man who stood an inch or two taller than he did, even if he was leaner, lacked a little of the breadth that Josh possessed. He darted forward like a striking snake and caught Josh behind the knees, scooping his legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the mats yet again.

The fall seemed to take ages, Josh’s entire body braced for the hit. His shoulders stung where he landed, rocking back into the motion of it, head tucked to avoid whiplash. He took a hard breath to recover a little of the air that had punched out of him on impact, glowering up at Vasquez, who once again had his jō staff angled at Josh’s chest.

“Three to three.”

Josh snarled, fury wrenching mean and ugly behind his ribs, and thrust his staff across the scuffed mats. He rolled over onto his side and pushed himself up from his hands and knees while Vasquez backed warily away.

“Going to need that, guero,” he said, nodding to where Josh’s staff had rolled off into the corner of the kwoon. Josh shook his head.

“Nope. Tryin’ somethin’ different.” He settled himself into a familiar boxing stance, body loose, and jerked his chin at the staff in Vasquez’s hands. “Why don’t you put that down and we’ll see how well you do the way I fight?”

Vasquez arched an eyebrow, mouth tilting up in a taunting smirk.

“What, dirty?”

 _“Barehanded,”_ Josh spat.

For a split second, Vasquez looked honestly surprised, a tiny, amused curl quirking at the corners of his mouth.

“You want to fight me hand-to-hand?” he clarified, eyebrows high and disbelieving. Josh shrugged noncommittally but maintained his stance.

“‘Less you’re too chickenshit,” he said pleasantly. Vasquez huffed a laugh, mean and sharp-edged but suffused with real mirth.

“Recuerdas que preguntaste por este,” he grinned, shaking his head and padding across the mats to the cubbyholes where they usually stashed the gear. He tucked his staff away carefully alongside a slew of others before turning and meandering slowly back to the center of the mats, pulling his arms across his body to stretch his shoulders as he walked. When he was a paltry few feet away he stopped and dropped into a similar stance, body relaxed and curled protectively forward, hands up near his face.

“Whenever you’re ready, guero,” he invited, mouth quirked pleasantly, smug and confident.

Josh was going to take immense satisfaction in wiping that stupid smirk from his face.

They circled each other for a long second, carefully taking in the weight, the pattern of one another’s motion. Vasquez always moved with a certain confident ease, more so in the kwoon, even, than stalking the halls of the Shatterdome, but without the staff in hand he _prowled_ \- taking long, slinking steps, entire body shifting smooth and liquid like a big cat. Josh ducked in, threw a little, testing jab and was unsurprised when Vasquez batted it easily away.

“Patético,” Vasquez reprimanded, clicking his tongue. “You can do better than that, guerito.” He inched forward slowly, just close enough to bring a leg around and land a stinging kick to the side of Josh’s knee when Josh blocked a split second too late.

Josh shifted back and out of the way, glowering while he worked to put some distance between them. Vasquez just grinned and continued to meander ever nearer, eating up the space even as Josh made it. He landed another quick little kick to Josh’s knee and Josh’s temper snapped. He surged forward with a snarl, throwing a wide right-hook at Vasquez’s head in the slim hopes that a showy haymaker might distract Vasquez enough to give him the advantage.

Vasquez’s grin went sharp.

He brought an arm up to block, curled around the side of his face, which Josh _had_ expected, and then he brought his other hand up and pushed forward into the space Josh’s wheeling arm had opened up, which Josh _hadn’t._

The moment his forearm made contact with Josh’s sternum, Vasquez’s arms were around him, locked vice tight across his waist. He swung to the side and then circled around Josh’s back, tugging Josh with him. Josh took a desperate, stumbling step, trying to correct for the sudden shift in motion, and his belly dropped cold toward his toes when his foot caught on something hard and warm - Vasquez’s heel, he would realize later. They stood there for a frozen fraction of a second, Vasquez’s arms a damning weight around Josh’s waist, before gravity and momentum took them both to the floor with enough force that all the breath was expelled from Josh’s chest. Vasquez twisted and rolled at the last moment, narrowly avoiding being pinned beneath Josh’s back.

There was a dizzy blur of motion and the next thing Josh knew he was gasping, Vasquez heavy over his hips. He was straddling Josh with his hands curled over Josh’s biceps, grinning down at him, wicked and so smugly feline that Josh half-expected to see him licking canary feathers out of his teeth. He tried to buck up on instinct, toss Vasquez off, but the pressure across his hips increased as Vasquez sank down, hooking his legs underneath Josh’s knees from the outside and shifting them before he could gain enough traction to push himself up.

“That’s three to four, guerito,” Vasquez breathed, a low, smug rumble, face very close. He smelled like sweat and the last, lingering traces of whatever sweet-spiced cologne he usually wore. “One more and I win.”

“What the hell was that?” Josh demanded, face hot, embarrassment and something warmer writhing together in his belly.

“That was you being overeager,” Vasquez replied, corners of his mouth curling up in that self-satisfied smirk that made Josh want to spit and claw and bite. “Striking when baited instead of stopping to think.”

Josh felt like he’d been shoved into a pressure cooker, every part of him pulled taut, hot and on the edge of breaking. Vasquez was grinning down at him, both of them sweat-soaked and breathing hard. His dark eyes were practically glowing over his stupid, smug smile, and Josh couldn’t take it anymore.

There was something to be said for the fatalistic certainty that your chances of surviving into your forties were slim-to-none, Josh thought, grabbing for a fistful of Vasquez’s undershirt and savoring the way the medic’s smirk went sharp and dangerous at the corners. He’d never been particularly averse to taking risks - had the sealed juvenile detention record to prove it, a blackened mar on his childhood, warped and shaped into a reminder of happier times under the relentless onslaught of B-movie terrors from the deep - and here on the edge of the world there was little reason not to. They were all of them balanced a thousand feet up with no safety net, mapping beyond the edges of human existence, and in a world where every inch of uncharted territory was scrawled with ‘here there be monsters,’ there was little fear to find in man.

He surged up and caught Vasquez’s mouth with his own, too vicious and with too many teeth to really be called a kiss. Vasquez hissed and shifted, messy and off-center for a second until he got a fist into Josh’s hair, tugging meanly and groaning low into Josh’s mouth. After a brief moment of struggle - more of a token obligation than an expenditure of any true effort - Josh whimpered and acquiesced, tilting his head and opening up under the insistent slide of Vasquez’s tongue.

Vasquez kissed like he fought - sudden and brutal and overwhelming.

It was a dizzying spin, all of Josh's senses overloaded - attention split between the slick, hot glide of their tongues as Vasquez licked deep and possessive into Josh’s mouth; the sharp, painful pull of Vasquez’s hand in his hair, nudging and shifting him until he had Josh exactly where he wanted him; the heavy weight of Vasquez over top of him, grounding and maddening by turns. Vasquez rocked his hips and Josh bucked up into the delicious pressure, gasping at the heady drag of Vasquez’s dick - half-hard already - against his through the thin fabric of the combat pants they wore for training.

He fisted a hand in Vasquez’s black undershirt, got the other curled over the waistband of Vasquez’s pants. He rutted up again and Vasquez moaned sweetly, mirroring the motion and biting at Josh’s lip hard enough that Josh thought he might draw blood. He groaned into Vasquez’s mouth and abandoned his grip on Vasquez’s undershirt in favor of tugging desperately at his belt.

Vasquez made a little dissenting noise in the back of his throat and wrapped a hand around Josh’s wrist, pulling back just enough to gasp, “Wait, wait.”

“What?” Josh growled, rocking his hips up and reveling in the way Vasquez shuddered. “You wanna stop?”

“Tan guapo pero tan idiota,” he grumbled, leaning in to press a quick, bruising kiss to Josh’s mouth. He sat up, pulling Josh half-up with him. “We’re not stopping. Come on.”

Josh hummed and pushed himself the rest of the way into a seated position, got an arm around Vasquez’s waist where he was settled in Josh’s lap and bit meanly at his jaw.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“Lockers,” Vasquez replied absently, breathless in a way that pulled satisfaction all through Josh’s body like a thick, sweet smoke. He had one hand tangled in the hair at the nape of Josh’s neck, waved the other at the windows along the far wall of the kwoon, looking out onto the empty corridor. “Less chance of drawing a crowd.”

Josh rocked his hips and Vasquez swore under his breath, something sharp in Spanish that Josh couldn’t quite make out, and yanked at his hair.

“Quit,” he reprimanded, biting meanly at Josh’s mouth, which was fairly ineffective as punishments went, since Josh tended to prefer his romantic partners with quick tempers and sharp teeth.

“Ain’t you got a sense of adventure?” he asked, grinning teasingly.

Vasquez smirked, the sharp curve of it summoning a bolt of heat from Josh’s belly and scattering sparks up through his chest. He pulled at Josh’s hair again - tugging until Josh gasped and canted his head back, whole of his throat bared - and leaned in to suck a stinging mark just under Josh’s ear.

“Can’t fuck you out here, guero,” he explained, voice thick, gone deep and rough with want. There was a thread of inquiry in his tone underneath the gravel edge, like he was putting the idea up on offer but uncertain about its reception. “Been a medic too long to risk spit and hope.”

Josh had fucked and been fucked plenty in his life, and he knew what his preferences generally were. The idea of Vasquez in particular putting him on his hands and knees sent a thick, electric rope of need spooling out from Josh’s belly, sparking up his spine and coiling hot out to his fingertips.

“What, you too highbrow to fuck me in public?” Josh teased, voice a little too thin to be really convincing. Vasquez arched an eyebrow at him, dragged a trail of kisses along Josh’s jaw while he rocked his hips. Josh moaned, rutting up against him, and gasped out, “‘sides, maybe I like it rough.”

“I can fuck you as hard as you want,” Vasquez assured easily, breath warm against Josh’s cheek. Josh’s face went hot, a delighted shiver crawling along his shoulders at the confident promise in Vasquez’s low rumble. “We do it my way, you won’t be too raw for another round later.”

Josh swallowed, thick, mouth gone dry.

“Awful presumptuous,” he croaked.

Every gentle press of Vasquez’s lips, every cautious, exploratory touch of his fingers up under Josh’s shirt landed like a firebrand against his skin.

“We’ll see,” he said noncommittally, sealing his mouth over Josh’s for a long second, licking hot past his teeth, biting just this side of too hard.

Despite his notoriously stubborn nature, Josh allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, following along dazedly as Vasquez lured him back toward the changing rooms with deep, heady kisses that left him feeling hypnotized; a common street rat under thrall of Vasquez’s pied piper, summoned out into the dark wilds by the distant promise of paradise.

To his credit, Vasquez was making good on his claim - kissing with just the right amount of teeth, fingers digging in just past the bruising side of hard, pulling against Josh’s hips in a way that he knew would leave dark smudges come morning. They stumbled into the locker rooms together, every noise magnified, echoing off of the exposed metal. Josh fumbled at Vasquez’s belt, already half-undone, and staggered backwards under Vasquez’s guidance until he was pressed up against the end of a row of lockers, metal cool where it met his fevered skin.

“Fuck,” he moaned desperately, as Vasquez reach down to palm him through his pants.

“Sí, guero,” Vasquez agreed, grinning, amused, as he ran his thumb along the line of Josh’s dick, scorching hot even through the layers of fabric. “That’s the idea.”

“You plan to get to the fun part or were you just angling to make bad jokes in private?” Josh growled, yanking Vasquez’s belt free of his slacks and dropping it to the floor with a loud, metallic clank.

“Always so impatient,” Vasquez murmured, and tucked one hand up under the hem of Josh’s shirt, splayed across his belly. He used his other to make quick work of Josh’s belt, tugging it off and tossing it to the floor alongside his own, fingers dipping tantalizingly past the waistband of Josh’s pants.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if somebody hadn’t been working me over for the better part of half an hour,” Josh grumbled. He bit his lip and sucked a hard breath through his nose as Vasquez curled one hand over Josh’s hip, slipped the other into Josh’s boxers and wrapped his big, callused palm around Josh’s dick.

“If I’d known all it would take to catch your interest was a little fight, I would have taken a swing at you months ago, guero,” Vasquez assured.

He dragged his hand up and down, dryer than Josh would have preferred, but still good, slow and smooth and warm. Josh let his head fall back against the metal siding, bucking up into Vasquez’s grip with a few frantic, shallow rolls of his hips.

“Fuck,” he breathed again, and Vasquez leaned in, smirking wickedly, to steal another kiss. It was possessive and deep, Vasquez’s stubble dragging against Josh’s and dropping a bright point of heat into the inferno in Josh’s belly. He keened into Vasquez’s mouth and bucked up again.

“Relájate, guero,” Vasquez growled, twisting his grip and pressing his thumb gently under the head of Josh’s cock. Josh made a choked little noise in the back of his throat and Vasquez grinned, smug. “You’re not very good with patience, are you?”

“You always talk this much?” Josh groused, mostly just to be contrary, though any effect his admonition might have had was likely lost to the thin, breathless quality of his tone and the way he tried to push up into Vasquez’s grip.

“Only when I have something worth saying,” Vasquez replied. He kissed Josh quick and mean, biting at his lip and squeezing just this side of too hard around his dick. Josh hissed, hips twitching as Vasquez smirked, “Maybe you should listen, hermosito. Could learn something.”

Josh licked at his lower lip, swollen and warm where Vasquez had taken his teeth to it, the bright tang of copper so close to the surface of his skin he swore he could already taste it. Vasquez followed the motion with his eyes, pupils blooming big and dark.

“Only thing I’m learning is that you’re a tease,” Josh assured hoarsely.

Vasquez’s gaze flickered up, fairly smoldering over his sharp-edged grin, smug and victorious like he’d been hoping Josh might express a sentiment along those lines.

“Guess I’ll have to work harder to make it stick, then,” he said easily.

He gave Josh’s cock another couple of quick passes with his palm and crowded in close, nudging Josh’s nose with his own until Josh tilted his head. The kiss this time was scorching, intimate and lazy, Vasquez’s mouth moving easily over his, tongue darting in little, teasing passes. He pulled his hand back up out of Josh’s pants, making a soft, apologetic noise when Josh whined at the loss, and wrapped both of his palms around Josh’s hips, pinning him in against the wall with the warm weight of his body while he rolled his hips forward.

Josh moaned at the pressure, the heat of Vasquez’s dick as it lined up alongside his own. He fisted both his hands in Vasquez’s shirt, pulling him forward even though there was barely enough room to pass a breath between them already, need buzzing along his ribs, making him want for more.

Vasquez kissed him until Josh felt dizzy with it, all of his senses zeroed down to the slick slide of their mouths, the tantalizing pressure where their hips lined up. Vasquez rutted against him with slow, gentle thrusts, dragging his thumbs along the line of Josh’s hips. Every little press of him, every tender, lingering touch pulled a long burst of white heat out from Josh’s spine. He moaned and gasped under Vasquez’s hands, the steady rhythm of his motion coaxing noises out from Josh’s chest that he hadn’t even known he could make.

“You ready for the next part?” Vasquez asked, rocking his hips forward as he trailed little kisses along Josh’s jaw, nuzzled at his temple.

The gentle affection made Josh’s chest tighten painfully, sent a bolt of heat through him, warm even when measured against the immolating want burning under his skin. He closed his eyes against it, swallowing thick, and tilted his head to grant Vasquez better access.

“Been ready,” he breathed. Vasquez laughed, a low, sweet rumble that Josh could feel reverberate through his chest.

“Por supuesto,” he murmured, sucking a mark into the skin of Josh’s throat hard enough to sting. He ducked in for another, lingering kiss, cupping Josh’s chin gently in his fingers and angling his face up into it. He stepped away some moments later, dark eyes dancing, lit from within by some impish delight, and instructed with a grin, “Take your clothes off for me.”

“Where are you going?” Josh demanded gruffly.

“Suministros,” Vasquez replied unhelpfully as he rounded the corner. Josh rolled his eyes, tugging his boxers and pants down and off, trying desperately not to give in to the temptation to spit into his palm, bring himself off hard and fast the way he knew he liked it.

There was the distant clang of a locker being yanked open, and some indistinct rustling that could have been any number of things, half-muted as it was through the damp fabric of Josh’s tee shirt while he pulled it off over his head. He let it fall to the floor with a little wet slap and brushed his hands absently down his thighs. For all the time that he’d spent nude in this very room, he felt a little ridiculous standing there waiting on Vasquez with a flush spilling down his chest, cock heavy between his legs, skin alight from head to toe with the humming need to touch and be touched.

Vasquez, when he reappeared, had similarly disrobed, and a lazy tongue of heat licked up Josh’s spine at the sight of him.

He really was graceful, in a coiled and measured way that promised violence, all the lean lines and elegant angles of him on display, broad shoulders and long legs and big hands. He had dark hair across his chest, trailing down his belly to where his dick was thick and flushed dark, with a slight, mouthwatering curve to it.

Josh briefly considered dropping to his knees right there, goading Vasquez into pulling his hair and fucking into his mouth with even half the ferocity he had out in the kwoon, but Vasquez clearly had something in mind with this jaunt to the locker room and Josh was more than invested enough by now to want to see it through.

“Like what you see?” he grinned, catching Vasquez midway through giving him a slow, smoldering up-and-down glance. Vasquez sighed and stalked forward with a sly grin.

“No tienes ningun idea de lo que pareces, ¿no, guero?” he murmured, coming to rest a few bare inches away from Josh with one hand at his waist, the other curled around something Josh couldn't quite make out beyond a little flash of white.

“The hell does that mean?” he asked, as Vasquez ducked his head to bite gently at the hinge of his jaw, laving a thick stripe along the cord of his neck when he sighed and tilted his head.

“Just appreciating you,” Vasquez assured lowly.

Josh groaned deep in his chest, loud and punched out of him, when Vasquez pressed in further still, abandoning his gentle grip on Josh’s hip in favor of wrapping a hand around both their cocks, sliding together hot and sweet and so good. Vasquez kissed him again, slow and possessive, while Josh whimpered and bucked up into his fist. He pulled back with a sigh, dark eyes dancing as he growled, “Te voy a joder hasta no puedes recordar tu nombre, cariño.”

“You suddenly forget how to speak English or something?” Josh grumbled darkly.

Vasquez grinned and darted in for another kiss, shifting his grip and rolling his hips into it. The heady drag of their dicks, Vasquez’s calloused palm tightening and twisting, all of it tangled together and pulled a moan out from the back of Josh’s throat.

“Lo siento, guerito,” Vasquez said gently. He ran his thumb across the head of Josh’s cock, catching a bead of precome and sliding slick and hot a little way down the length of him. “Turn around for me, ¿sí?”

“Kinda thought we were in the middle of something,” Josh teased breathlessly, bucking into Vasquez’s grip and rewarded with a low, sudden groan in response. Vasquez squeezed again - a quick, warm burst of pressure  - and then let go, stepping back a little as he nudged at Josh’s waist with his free hand.

“Could be in the middle of something better, if you would just turn around,” he murmured, pinching gently at Josh’s hip. “Muévete.”

Josh briefly debated stalling out of sheer dickery, but they’d been playing this game long enough. Besides, there was something to the dark gleam in Vasquez’s eye that suggested he would regret sticking a wrench any further into the works. He rolled his eyes but turned, as he’d been told, waving his hands aloft as he asked sarcastically, “This good enough or you need to see my skirt flare out?”

Vasquez huffed a laugh and crowded up behind him, curling an arm possessively around Josh’s waist and splaying a broad palm across the low expanse of his belly. Josh bit his lip and did his best not to shudder at the contact.

“Hands up against the wall, guero,” Vasquez murmured, voice a low, intent rumble against the tender skin behind Josh’s ear.

“What, am I under arrest?” he asked thinly. Vasquez pressed a rough kiss to his throat and laughed again.

“Maybe I just like seeing you do what I tell you to.”

“Don't get used to it,” Josh grumbled, pressing his palms against the smooth, cool metal of the lockers, with their peeling paint and half-assed ballpoint graffiti.

“Nunca, queridito,” Vasquez murmured. There was the quick, soft sound of something tearing, a huff of breath as Vasquez presumably spit something onto the floor. Josh frowned, curious, and turned his head to look, but before he could catch anything Vasquez was leaning in, sealing his lush mouth over Josh's, kissing rough and hot and deep.

“You ready, guero?” he asked, breath warm against Josh’s cheek, noses brushing.

“Been ready for a while,” he assured, smirking. Vasquez hummed and ducked in to kiss him again, passionate and quick, before trailing his lips along the curve of Josh’s shoulder, down the arc of his spine and between his shoulder blades. He dragged his thumb in electric-bright strokes across Josh’s belly for a brief second before pulling his hand away, brushing his knuckles against Josh’s hip and pawing gently at his ass.

There was the cool, wet slide of a well-slicked finger against his entrance and Josh gasped, spreading his legs a little wider on instinct.

“Is that lube?” he asked breathlessly.

“Sí, guero. Medical grade,” Vasquez agreed easily. He pressed a kiss to Josh’s shoulder, dragged his finger in little circles around Josh’s hole, slick and warm and taunting. Josh pressed back into it a little and Vasquez pulled his hand away, the utter bastard.

Josh absolutely didn't whimper, no matter what later recollections may imply, before turning his head to snap waspishly, “What, you just carry it around with you?”

He caught a gleaming white chip of Vasquez’s smug grin in the corner of his vision, tried his best to stay still as Vasquez started stroking his opening again, asserting just enough pressure to make Josh’s dick twitch against his thigh without breaching him at all, but it was fairly well beyond his control at that point, for better or worse.

“More useful to have on hand than you might think,” Vasquez rumbled, sinking his finger in just barely before pulling it back out. Josh made a desperate little wanting noise and rocked his hips back into it.

“Ah - fuck,” he breathed, shifting his hips and trying to relax as Vasquez’s slick finger pressed into him, shallow and careful. “Aren't you just a regular Boy Scout?”

Vasquez snorted and let his finger sink in with gentle, careful thrusts. It was slick and hot and perfect and not nearly enough.

“Can take more’n that,” he grumbled. Vasquez curled his free hand around Josh’s hip, squeezing gently.

“I think, guero, you're missing the point here,” he said, voice low and thick with humor.

“Oh?” Josh breathed, doing his best not to whimper as Vasquez slid a second finger in alongside the first with the same infuriatingly tender strokes. “And what’s the point?”

“If you're not getting it, clearly I need to try harder,” Vasquez murmured vaguely. He worked a third finger in alongside the other two, a little less gently this time, and Josh moaned, rocking his hips back into it. Vasquez’s fingers were long and elegant, thick and curving precisely the right way to drive Josh crazy, and this was clearly something he’d done before and took great pleasure in, from the way he was drawing it out.

“Come on,” Josh hissed, rocking back onto Vasquez’s slick fingers, savoring the easy glide and subtle burn. There was a steady hum of low-grade pleasure coiling all throughout his body, settled low and hazy like a thick fog. “Just fuck me already.”

Vasquez clucked his tongue chidingly, pressed a sloppy, rough kiss high along the crest of Josh’s shoulders, right at the base of his neck.

“Aren’t you enjoying yourself, guero?” He murmured, breath warm against Josh’s skin. He squeezed gently at Josh’s hip and dragged his teeth against the hinge of Josh’s jaw when Josh turned to snarl at him. Before he could work up a reasonable response beyond baring his teeth, Vasquez arched his fingers, working them in quick, searching strokes that sent heat pulsing viciously along Josh’s spine, punched up from deep in his belly.

“Oh fuck,” Josh gasped, moaning like it’d been ripped out of him and pushing back harder into the maddeningly tender curl of Vasquez’s fingers, thighs trembling and knees threatening to buckle under the sudden, sparking wave of pleasure that rolled out to the edges of his body.

“Sounds like you are.” Vasquez bit at Josh’s shoulder, rutting his dick along the cleft of Josh’s ass even as he curled his fingers and sent sparks flickering out to Josh’s fingertips again. Josh whimpered and rocked back into it, desperate and wanting. “Better than spit, ¿no?”

“Quit teasing,” Josh snapped. “Either fuck me or don’t but don't - ah - ” He gasped, sudden and torn out of him when Vasquez curled his fingers once, hard, and then withdrew them entirely.

After a few quick seconds - during which Vasquez presumably slicked himself with the remaining lube - there was the hot, blunt press of the velvet head of his dick against Josh’s entrance, fingers still wet where he curled his other hand over Josh’s hip.

“You want a condom, guero?” he asked, and the subtle airiness in his tone, the first real indication that he was similarly affected by this little tryst, made something dark and smug and vicious flare hot in Josh’s chest. “Got those, too.”

“‘M clean,” he breathed, pressing his hips back a little and reveling in the muted gasp the motion pulled out of Vasquez. “Tested every three months like everyone else on base.”

“A mí también,” Vasquez growled, pushing forward ever so slightly, into that moment’s resistance. “Me too.”

“C’mon then,” Josh demanded, sneering meanly over his shoulder and bracing his palms against the wall. “Do it, already, _hombre.”_

“Lo que quieras,” Vasquez murmured. His grip on Josh’s hips tightened as he pushed forward, sinking into him one tantalizing inch at a time. Josh moaned, head falling forward, and rolled his hips back to meet Vasquez’s careful, conservative thrusts.

“Come _on,”_ he groaned pathetically when Vasquez pushed his hips forward, holding him in place and giving a little, warning squeeze whenever he tried to move faster than the slow, lazy crawl to which Vasquez had apparently committed. “Dammit, Vasquez, _please,_ c’mon.”

Behind him, Vasquez clicked his tongue, keeping up his shallow, teasing thrusts for what felt like hours, slowly pushing forward until he was seated flush, draped over Josh’s back with his chin hooked over Josh’s shoulder. He nuzzled against Josh’s cheek for a second with his own, grinning sharp and impish as he asked, “Well, guero? You get the point yet?”

“Is it that you're an asshole?” Josh snapped furiously. Vasquez laughed and caught his mouth in a kiss, grinning when Josh bit furiously at him.

He pulled out almost all the way, long and tantalizing and slow, before sinking back in inch by agonizing inch, sending little, cresting waves of pleasure crashing out through Josh’s fingers and toes. Josh moaned desperately and tried to rock back into it, though the ironclad grip Vasquez had on hips didn't allow for much freedom of mobility.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, thighs shaking. He could feel sweat beading at his temples, the small of his back, body still damp in part from the half-hour they’d spent in the kwoon just before. “Come on, V, please.”

“You want me to stop?” Vasquez asked, biting playfully at Josh’s earlobe.

“I want you to _move,_ fucker,” Josh snarled. Vasquez sighed, dragged his cheek against the tender skin of Josh’s neck and then sucked hard enough on the abused flesh that Josh knew there would be a dark, purpling mark there within seconds. He keened and tilted his head, shuddering with his whole body when Vasquez dragged his tongue across it, a sore, sweet pressure against the developing bruise.

“You’re still not getting it, guerito,” Vasquez said absently. He pulled Josh’s hips back, thrust into him once, twice, slow and easy, before pulling out all the way.

“What - ” Josh breathed, confused and more than a little disappointed, “what are you doing?”

“Come with me, cariño,” Vasquez soothed, pressing a kiss to Josh’s temple. He tugged Josh backward by his hips, up and off the wall.

Embarrassed heat spilled all down Josh’s chest, coiled through his belly - he felt a fool standing here in the middle of the aisle with nothing to hold onto but heat of Vasquez at his back.

“What the fuck?” he breathed, turning to stare incredulously at Vasquez, all warm, fond eyes over his soft smile.

“Come on,” Vasquez repeated, and took another shuffling step backward, pulling Josh with him. Josh followed, want and frustration and embarrassment all tangled up in his belly, face flushed hot while he scowled at Vasquez’s stupid affectionate smirk.

“You've gotta be fuckin' kidding,” he demanded hotly, cheeks flaring warmer when Vasquez looked at him like it should be obvious. He took another few steps and then dropped down onto the padded bench lining the wall behind him, leaning in to press a quick, rough kiss to Josh’s belly.

“Figure it out yet, guero?” he asked, grinning sharp and teasing, running his thumbs in soothing strokes along Josh’s hips.

“Fuck off,” Josh grumbled. “Are you serious?”

Vasquez grinned up at him, dark and mischievous.

“Consider it a learning experience,” he replied simply, tugging Josh forward. “Come on. Sit.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Josh muttered furiously. “I can’t believe you interrupted a round of perfectly good fucking for this romantic bullshit.”

His ire was perhaps impeded a bit by the way he willingly slung his arms around Vasquez’s shoulders and knelt in his lap, but then Josh was rapidly learning that his bark was significantly fiercer than his bite where Vasquez was concerned. He wasn’t especially proud of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much when Vasquez leaned up to kiss him, sweet and hot and deep.

“This better be worth it,” he warned darkly, grumbling against Vasquez’s mouth.

Vasquez grinned into the kiss, lined himself up and stroked a broad, warm palm along Josh’s thigh. He licked at the seam of Josh’s mouth, tongue curling possessively past Josh’s teeth while Josh sank down onto him, sighing into it. Those little, white hot embers sparked behind his eyelids, cock jumping desperately. Vasquez braced his heels against the floor and rolled his hips while Josh whimpered. He was moving just as miserably slowly as he had been moments before, but it felt deeper, better with Josh’s dick trapped between them, head gone slick with precome and sliding rapturously against Vasquez’s belly.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, closing his eyes and ducking his head while Vasquez rocked up into him again, slow, syrupy wave of pleasure sprawling out through his limbs. “Why won’t you _move,_  you sonofabitch?”

Vasquez huffed a thin little laugh.

“What have I been telling you about patience?”

“Ain’t got none?” Josh offered, biting at Vasquez’s collarbone. He lifted up onto his knees just a little, let himself back down as Vasquez rolled his hips up, matching that same torturous pace despite the part of him that was howling to move harder, faster.

“You’re getting there,” Vasquez mumbled approvingly. “Look at me, querido.”

“Fuck,” Josh moaned, shaking his head and dropping another gentle bite onto Vasquez’s chest.

“Come on, hermosito,” Vasquez tried again, nudging at Josh’s chin with his knuckles. “Let me see you.”

“Goddammit,” Josh muttered furiously, glaring up at Vasquez, biting his own lip as Vasquez reached a hand between them, curled his half-slicked palm around Josh’s dick. “You’re such a fucking - _fuck_ \- ”

“I know, guero,” Vasquez agreed easily, grinning while Josh bucked up into the heat of his grip, sank down onto him. Those slowly ebbing waves were building, that bright white star gathering deep in Josh’s belly spreading out at the edges and threatening to ignite.

“Fuck,” he moaned again, tangling a hand furiously in the curls at the nape of Vasquez’s neck, biting viciously at his mouth. “I hate you so fucking much.”

“So you’ve said,” Vasquez laughed, bucking up hard. He groaned as Josh ground down onto him, squeezing Josh’s dick and pressing his thumb up under the head.

“Oh fuck,” Josh warned, all that banked white light starting to spill over and out. “ _Oh fuck,_ I’m gonna come.”

“Que bueno, guero,” Vasquez murmured against his mouth, thrusting up harder and twisting his grip while Josh whimpered and shook. “Let go for me. Te quiero ver.”

“Fuck,” Josh whined, grinding back desperately onto Vasquez’s dick and thrusting up into his grip, teetering precariously between the twin sensations, every part of him overcome with the buzzing electric hum of pleasure. He pulled on Vasquez’s hair, hard, and keened into his mouth as that star-bright heat dropped out of the bottom of his belly, spilling in slick ropes between them.

Vasquez muttered something that Josh didn’t understand, distant and tinny through the muzzy haze of satisfaction clouding Josh’s mind. He bucked up into him with a few snapping, desperate thrusts of his hips before he followed Josh over that glorious edge, burying his face against Josh’s chest and gasping, hot and overcome.

They sat together for a few long seconds, Vasquez nuzzling against Josh’s skin and pressing little, tender kisses against the plane of his chest while Josh let his cheek rest against Vasquez’s sweat-damp hair.

“Fuck,” he sighed after awhile, making a small noise of discontent when Vasquez rocked his hips, shifting his softening cock while Josh was oversensitive and wrung out. He swatted irritably at Vasquez’s chest and mumbled, “Cut that shit out.”

It was as much a blessing as a curse, Josh considered absently, the way he always went a little sleepy and stupid after an orgasm - and as much as he hated to admit it, this one, for all the trouble he’d gone through to get it, had been truly stellar. He sighed again and leaned his body weight into Vasquez, who wrapped his arms obligingly around Josh’s waist and pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

“What are you doing after this, guero?” he asked, voice a low, sated rumble.

“Dunno,” Josh slurred absently, shifting a little and gusting a sigh into Vasquez’s hair. “Why, you got somewhere to be?”

Vasquez shook his head, beard rough and wonderful against Josh’s skin as he moved.

“No,” he said easily. “Planned to shower and head back to my room.” He nosed at Josh’s chin, biting gently until Josh pinned him with a narrow-eyed glare and sat up enough that he could steal a kiss, murmur sweetly against Josh’s mouth, “I thought you might like to join me.”

Josh made a show of considering this, humming and tilting his head while Vasquez rolled his eyes, thoroughly unimpressed.

“I think,” he assured with a smirk, biting at his lip and getting close enough that their noses brushed, “that I could probably be convinced."

Vasquez grinned, sharp and wicked, and leaned in to put up his best argument.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish translations for everyone! I didn't bother translating the many many diminutives that Vasquez uses in this fic, because I'm lazy. If you'd like to know what any of them mean specifically or have any questions about them, feel free to ask. Otherwise, here we go!
> 
>  **Recuerdas que preguntaste por este:** Remember that you asked for this  
>  **Patético:** Pathetic  
>  **Tan guapo pero tan idiota:** So pretty but so stupid  
>  **Relájate:** Relax  
>  **Por supuesto:** Of course  
>  **Suministros:** Supplies  
>  **No tienes ningun idea de lo que pareces, ¿no, muero?:** You have no idea what you look like, do you guero?  
>  **Te voy a joder hasta no puedes recordar tu nombre, cariño:** I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your name, honey  
>  **Lo siento:** I'm sorry  
>  **Muévete:** Move  
>  **Nunca:** Never  
>  **A mí también:** Me too  
>  **Lo que quieras:** Whatever you want  
>  **Que bueno, guero:** That's good, guero  
>  **Te quiero ver:** I want to see you
> 
> I think I got it all, but if I missed anything or you have any additional questions, feel free to let me know. 
> 
> As per usual, you can hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thrillingest.tumblr.com) or @thrillingest on Twitter though I'm not very good at social media, so just, be aware. <33


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